


How to be a Knight

by reakain



Category: Suikoden, Suikoden III
Genre: Gen, Growing Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7446694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reakain/pseuds/reakain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis was always more comfortable with laundry and tidying. Swords were unwieldy and strange in his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to be a Knight

It certainly wasn’t intentional. Honestly he’d been so intent on finding somewhere to hang the heavy load of linens he’d nearly missed the glint of steel down the hill. Nearly. But then, once he’d seen it it was hard to look away. Hugo was training on a dummy post. All flashes of reds and oranges and browns and  _ steel _ . Nothing but taut sinew and precise motions for each cut of the knife. And yet there was a rage to it, fire and rhythm and an angry dance with silent music. He’d forgotten the linens until he heard the ‘thump’ as they dropped from his hands. After that he gave a rather unmanly squeak and collected the cloth, scurrying off to find a line to dry it on.

It was two weeks before he stumbled upon Hugo’s training again. This time he was sparring with a girl. Had Louis heard her name before…? A something, maybe… Or was it I something? He couldn’t be certain, but they were circling each other with training daggers. The battle dance was even more beautiful when he had someone else to dance with him, and Louis found himself rather rooted to the spot, watching in awe as the two circled and lunged and dodged and parried. The knights’ training was nothing like this. There’s was regimented, practiced, repetitive strokes. And while sparring could be beautiful, it was nothing so visceral as this.

Louis had become a squire at his father’s behest… But he’d never much loved the feel of a sword in hand. He’d always preferred cleaning and attending to the rigorous training. The sword felt foreign, while a broom felt comfortable. Lady Chris always sighed at that fact, concerned about the progress of his training. Yet, this dance drew him with its fury, and he forgot himself until they’d toppled to the ground with Aila’s dagger to Hugo’s throat. Only then did he remember why he’d passed this way - to collect fresh tea leaves from Gordon - and then he was scurrying off again, gaze down and cheeks flushed.

Two days later he saw Hugo training from where he was putting Lady Chris’ room to sorts, and the next day he passed that way again. Only this time he took his time. Hugo seemed absorbed in his swings on the dummy, and Louis settled down on the grassy hill overlooking the yard where Hugo trained. He wasn’t- It wasn’t inappropriate. Lady Chris had told him it was important to examine other fighting styles. That’s really all it was.

Of course, it became a bit of a habit, after that. Every few days he’d find himself with a book or with armor to polish or linens to mend sitting on that hill. He was only there for some sun, of course. He wanted to work outside. If perhaps he was slower than usual in his work during that time, no one had noticed a problem.

Two weeks went by this way. Then three. Then a month. It had become routine in itself, and Hugo at least had yet to notice, or perhaps simply didn’t care. His concerns about being approached had long since faded away. Certainly that was why when Hugo turned to him and called up the hill, Louis had startled so badly he’d dropped his book. “Hey! C’mere!” Hugo’s voice wasn’t deep, but it carried. It was full of confidence and certainty that Louis at least didn’t often feel.

Thus it was with uncertainty that Louis made his way down the hill, book tucked under one arm. It was with a hitch in his voice that he finally talked to Hugo again, someone he hadn’t addressed since the raid on the Karayan village. “Yes?”

Hugo’s eyes seemed eerily observant as the other looked him over carefully, gaze sweeping over his armor. He looked the part of a chieftain’s son. “Spar with me?” And yet, the words were soft and high, and the slight grin suddenly reminded Louis they were of similar ages. Still young.

“Oh, no, I was just- I was just reading.”

Hugo huffed and it made his bangs flutter. “You’re always up there. Either reading or whatever else. You’re an ironhead, aren’t you? Spar with me.”

Louis had no excuse for that. “I… Suppose. Though I don’t have a sword with me.”

Hugo’s answering grin was brilliant. Bright and wide and easy, somehow. “Nah, we can just use daggers this time. I’ve got the practice once here incase Aila shows up.” Ah, yes, that was her name, Aila. He gave a nod and Hugo handed over one of the daggers.

It felt heavy in his hands. Heavy and unwieldy and foreign. When he looked up, Hugo was grinning at him from a few feet away, already crouched low. “Ready?” It was an embarrassingly short time before he found himself on the ground with Hugo’s dagger in his face.

Hugo pulled him bodily to his feet and with a flushed face and a wide grin spoke Louis’ doom. “Again?”

Dusk had settled by the time Hugo seemed to have had enough, and despite his training all of Louis’ limbs felt numb and heavy. “That was good. Next time bring a practice sword?”

He glanced sidelong to Louis as he packed up his armaments, and Louis found himself nodding despite his body’s screaming protests. “I’ll do my best.”

Next time Louis didn’t fair any better. The third time, as he found himself sliding across dirt again, he wondered why he kept coming back. But Hugo was grinning and pulling him back up before he could think of an answer. “C’mon, you’ve gotta do better than that, ironhead.”

Louis huffed, brushing grass from his hair. “I’m only a squire, and I have a name you know.” It took him a moment to realize Hugo had stopped talking, and when he looked to the Karayan he found his head dipped low and expression sheepish. “I, um… I don’t actually know your name.”

Then it was Louis’ turn to look embarrassed. “Oh! Oh, I’m- my apologies. I can’t believe I neglected to introduce myself.” He shot out a hand to Hugo, voice perhaps a bit too hurried. “My name is Louis Keeferson, squire to Lady Chris Lightfellow.”

Somehow (contrary to all of Louis’ expectations), rather than shaking his hand or anything else, Hugo started laughing. Not just laughter, howling with it, bent forward and cackling. Uncertaintly, Louis started to pull his proffered hand back, only for Hugo to hastily grab it, trying to speak through and quell his laughter. “No, no, I didn’t mean- Sorry I- it’s good to meet you.”

Louis had his doubts on that, watching Hugo wipe away tears from laughter and straighten up. He was a little taller than Louis, and it just made Louis want to will his body to grow taller. He wanted to win at  _ something _ at least. 

“What’s a squire, by the way?” The question caught him off guard -  _ like everything about Hugo, really _ \- but his answer at least felt certain and solid when he spoke, at least. “A squire is a knight’s attendant and trainee. I assist Lady Chris with day to day affairs, and she teaches me what it means to be a knight.”

“Is there more to being a knight than stabbing people?”

“Yes!!” The words came too forcefully, and Louis took a step back, embarrassment writ on his features from the outburst. “Yes… A knight is, well, a knight is a symbol. You have to be virtuous and protect those who are lesser. A knight serves.”

From the furrow on Hugo’s brow it was clear the boy didn’t really understand, but the Karayan shrugged it off. “Well, if you’re training to be a knight you ought to train more with me, right? It’s good for you, and it’s good for me.” Louis felt himself nodding hesitantly, and watched Hugo’s mouth curl into a devious grin. “So, meet again tomorrow?”

He hated it. A week passed, and another. Everything hurt, but he kept going back to spar with Hugo. He still lost every time, but the matches seemed to take a little longer now. Occasionally though, he was still brought up short by the beauty of Hugo’s motions. Then he always found himself on the ground, and he was certain his back had formed a permanent bruise.

It was a week later when Hugo finally called him out on that too. “You like my fighting style or something?” Louis squared his shoulders and nodded, staring at the ground. “It always looks like you’re dancing.”

The silence dragged on after that, and Louis didn’t look up. He tried to project confidence, but really he was just too mortified to meet Hugo’s gaze. So instead he stood there, glaring at the ground and trying not to fidget. When Hugo spoke again, he once more managed to blindside the squire. “I could teach you if you want.”

Louis chanced a glance up, and Hugo was sporting a faint flush, looking up at the sky rather than at Louis. “Well, I can try anyway. I’ve never taught anyone else how to fight so who knows how it’ll go-” “Yes please!”

Oops, perhaps a bit too excited, yet again. Still, Hugo finally looked at him, and his expression split into a wide, pleased grin, and Louis, despite his expectations, found himself grinning right back, just as wide, and just as thrilled.

A month later, and his sword didn’t feel so heavy in his hands anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Louis in game is the sweetest character, but the idea of him using a sword always just seemed... Strange. So it was hard to imagine him actually becoming a knight and fighting and using a sword. Soo... I wanted to build and interim between Louis in the game, and Louis as he becomes a knight.


End file.
